The Heroes of Avalar Book 1: The Flame's Spark
by Ciaus Falkreath
Summary: After the end and before the beginning, lives a story about the heroes of a mythical valley. After Malefor's defeat, a new menace threatens the world, as a prophecy millions of years in the making finally takes hold. A legendary foe shall rise to claim the world as his own. It is up to these heroes to band together and put aside their differences in order to protect their world.
1. Prologue

One Year Ago

Two dragons, one purple and one black, flapped their wings tirelessly until they landed on a large crystal-like piece of stone that was the core of their world.

"Spyro I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," the black dragon spoke softly.

"Don't be… it's over now," the purple dragon replied.

"So this is it?" the black dragon asked as she looked at the crumbling world around them. Before Spyro could respond, a third voice spoke to him. Spyro closed his eyes as he spoke.

"Spyro, when a dragon dies it does not truly leave this world. Its spirit lives on, binding itself to nature, leaving hope for the future" Spyro's eyes burst open with clarity. He turned his head towards the black dragon.

"I know what I have to do. Just get out of here Cynder," Spyro told her.

"Spyro no! You don't have to _do_ anything. Let's just go," she replied.

"Where Cynder? There will be nothing left! The world is breaking apart! But I think I can stop it. I think I'm meant to," Spyro explained.

"Then I'm with you," Cynder added. Spyro's despair turned into relief. He began to hover in midair and glow a bright purple. He felt his energy being drained out of him and forced into the world. Through Spyro's eyes, the world slowly faded to white as three words, whispered by Cynder, echoed in his head.

"I love you." Spyro closed his eyes and braced himself for the end. Then, everything stopped. The violent quaking, the sound of earth shattering, they had simply ceased to exist. Spyro slowly opened his eyes. There was nothing for miles around him. It was just empty fog-like black for miles around him. He still hovered in the air, flapping his wings at a steady pace.

"So, this is the legendary Spyro? This is dragon who will bring balance to the world?" a loud booming voice spoke.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Spyro asked while whisking his head, trying to find the voice's owner.

"The prophecy has not yet reached your ears? How intriguing," the voice replied.

"What are you talking about? What prophecy?"

"It's only your entire heritage. Believe it or not, your sole purpose for living in this world is to fulfill this prophecy."

"I _don't_ believe it."

"What you have done today shall become legend, but that isn't all that your legend contains. To see your legend unfold, to see the true legend of Spyro, this prophecy must carried out."

"What is the prophecy about?" Spyro shouted while flying around, trying to find the speaker.

"You are the prophecy. It dictates that a purple dragon shall be born to vanquish the traitor."

"Then I've done it! Malefor's gone!"

"Incredible, you really are blind to the truth."

"Enough!" Spyro shouted while breathing gouts of fire.

"Very well," the voice spoke. Suddenly, the fog was being sucked into a single point. Spyro stopped his flames and looked where the fog was going. Where the fog was, now stood gray space. Spyro followed what was left of the fog until he reached its destination. A black-hooded figure stood perfectly still as the staff in his left hand absorbed all of the fog in the area. When the fog had completely vanished, the figured slowly turned his head in one direction, then the other, as if to examine his work. Spyro, still hovering, tried landing but as he lowered himself he sunk below the figure. Somehow, the mysterious figure was walking on air.

"Who are you?" Spyro asked again. The figure walked around the hovering dragon and ignored his question.

"Do you see this world? Do you see the gray?" Spyro nodded his head. "The problem with heroes is their perspective. They see the light and the darkness, the good and the evil, the black and the white… but never, do they consider the color that exists in between; or even the simplest gray that lies in the center," he said with his arms outstretched.

"Who… are… you?" Spyro asked once more.

"I am the very first. I am that which balances the black and the white. I am the master of time itself. I… am the Sorcerer," he answered.

"And what do you want me for?" Spyro asked.

"Simple, fulfill the prophecy. Play puppet to fate as you have," he answered.

"I haven't even heard of this prophecy before," Spyro replied.

"It is the prophecy as old as time itself. The ancients themselves wrote it, waiting millions of years for it to unfold. Return to your petty world and continue to play the hero. Soon, the Prophecy of a Thousand Suns will finally be complete; and the world will finally be how it should," The Sorcerer told him.

"I have a feeling that we will meet again," Spyro said, uneasily.

"Yes, we will meet again. But it is up to you to decide how we meet, whether it is on friendly terms or not. You will learn soon enough that your journey is far from over," the Sorcerer replied.

He waved his right hand in front of the crystal ball on his staff and it glowed white. In a bright flash, the world vanished and Spyro was forced into another one. He was still hovering, but now it was over a large green pasture. Seconds later, he was tackled onto the ground. Spyro looked to see what happened and saw Cynder with a huge smile stretched across her face.

"You did it! You saved the world and you saved us!" Cynder exclaimed. She jumped up into the sky and flew around. "I thought I would never see the sun again!" Spyro climbed into the sky behind her.

"I couldn't do it without you," Spyro told her. The two flew circles while facing each other for a few moments. "Did you really mean what you said?" Cynder nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Do you feel the same Spyro?" Cynder asked.

"Of course I do," Spyro answered. Her face bled with excitement. Suddenly, her thoughts were forced into the back of her mind.

"We… we should probably go see Terrador, Sparx, and the others," she said while taking the lead flight to Warfang. Spyro followed closely behind, with the Sorcerer's words still fresh in his mind.


	2. CHAPTER 1 - The Orphans of Avalar

Chapter 1: The Orphans of Avalar

Present Day

"I'm gonna' do it this time," he said, trying to prepare himself for what was coming.

"This is a bad idea Flame," spoke a female voice behind the red dragon. The tension in his body released as he looked behind him. He saw a female faun with bright red hair and her arms crossed in front of the green shirt she wore.

"Have a little faith in me will you Elora?" the young red dragon pleaded.

"I'll have faith when you have faith in yourself," she teased.

"I do have faith in myself," he defended.

"Then why haven't you jumped yet?" she snapped. Flame turned around and faced what was in front of him. He took a few steps forward and looked down. He was at the edge of a canyon, with the other side about the distance of a river's width away. In between that, was the canyon floor that extended far below the stone edge. For the last several months, Flame wanted nothing more than to fly. However, the best he could do was glide for a few seconds. He backed up a good distance away from the edge. He took in a deep breath as his claws tightly gripped the earth below him.

"I will fly this time," he whispered to himself.

"Don't do this, it won't end well," Elora warned. However, her warning only seemed to encourage him more as he ran towards the edge and jumped. Elora held her breath as Flame's claws left the earth they were familiar with. Flame flapped his wings as hard and as fast as he could. He felt the air under his wings as he took flight, for a brief moment. He found himself starting to glide for only a few seconds before falling towards the floor.

"Help Elora! Help!" Flame shouted.

"I'm coming!" she replied as climbed down the side of the canyon wall. Using her hooves, she navigated the craggy rocks and tried to get below Flame.

"Help, help!" Flame shouted again.

"Flap your wings faster!" she shouted back. He did as he was told and found himself starting to slow down. As he slowed, Elora sped up her descent. Now practically running down the canyon wall, she finally found herself a little ways below Flame. On instinct, she locked her hooves into the stony wall and leaned out with her chest facing up and locked her hands around Flame's tail as he flew passed her. Her entire body lurched at the sudden weight of Flame's body. When he noticed that he stopped moving, Flame slowly opened his eyes and looked up.

"E-Elora?" he muttered.

"Yeah… I'm here," she replied, struggling to keep from screaming.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Is there somewhere I can lower down to?" she asked, ignoring Flame's question. He hung his head low to look at his surroundings. After a few moments of looking, he saw a large stone cliff.

"There, off to the side, there's a platform," Flame gestured, flailing his head in that general direction. Elora began swinging her arms, and Flame's body began to sway back and forth until they developed a rhythm.

"On three… I'm gonna' let go, got it?" Elora stammered.

"Uh huh," Flame agreed nervously.

"Okay, one… two… three!" Elora called out before letting go of Flame's tail. He was swung towards the canyon wall and slid down it until he reached the platform. Elora turned her head to see what happened and sighed with relief when she saw him on the cliff. She then unlatched her sore hooves and positioned herself to slide down onto the cliff as Flame did. However, her legs gave way and she slipped, traveling faster than recommended. She fell onto her side and cried in pain as she hit the craggy earth.

"Elora!" Flame cried out as he ran towards her, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm alright," she said, struggling to stand up, but to no avail. That's when Flame saw Elora's ankles. The fur around her bruised and swollen joints was tattered and soaked in blood.

"Oh no! You're bleeding!" Flame cried out, panicking.

"It isn't… as bad… as it looks," Elora said between shallow breaths trying to look at her wounds. She cringed at the sight. "Wow… that looks bad."

"I'm so sorry Elora, this all my fault!" Flame told her, still panicking.

"Don't start with the angst," Elora said, trying her best to keep a cool head, "I need you to climb out of here and go get Hunter."

"Okay… I can do that," Flame replied, starting to gain composure.

"Good, those rocks behind you look easy to climb," Elora pointed out. Flame turned around and respond.

"Okay, I'll be right back I promise," Flame called while starting his climb out of the canyon. Flame slowly traversed the vertical wall, with Elora grimacing at every wrong step that he took. A few minutes later, Flame made his way out of the canyon and Elora relaxed, knowing that everything was going to be okay. Flame ran as fast as his little legs could carry him towards the nearby village. However, he sighed in relief to find a welcoming sight at the river just outside of the village gates. He saw an anthropomorphic cheetah shooting arrows into the water, catching fish that swam by. He saw the approaching dragon and ceased his fishing to greet him.

"Hello Flame, how are you and El… wait, where's your sister?"

"She's in the canyon and she's hurt! You need to help her Hunter!" Flame exclaimed.

"Why what happened?" Hunter asked.

"She fell and hurt her legs," he explained.

"I see, let's go," Hunter replied, throwing his bow over his shoulder and ran towards the canyon with Flame following close behind. Together they reached the same platform that Flame had jumped off of and Hunter began to scan the area for signs of the distressed faun. Flame saw her first.

"Over there!" Flame shouted while pointing in that general direction. After a few moments, Hunter found her as well.

"Elora!" he called out. She heard her name and raised her head to see where it came from, she was relieved to find that the call came from Hunter.

"Down here!" she cried back while waving her hand.

"Hang on! I'm coming!" Hunter shouted before jumping off the platform towards the opposite wall. Once he hit it, he bounced off it onto the other wall and slid down towards Elora.

"I'm so glad to see you!" Elora told him. However, Hunter's attention was drawn to her battered ankles.

"We need to get you out of here," Hunter replied while lifting up Elora, placing one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, "Hang on." He lowered himself to the ground, prepping for a jump. He leaped into the air and, like Elora descending down the canyon wall, he climbed from one crag to the next until he seemed to be levitating out of the chasm. When they made the final leap out, Hunter took a few seconds to breath as Flame ran up to them.

"Elora! Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah I'm fine," she replied, beginning to lose the painful pressure built in her ankles.

"We need to get you home to your mother," Hunter suggested.

"Oh no," she moaned, "Can you throw me back into the canyon instead?"

"This may be serious Elora, you need to get looked at," Hunter told her as he started to walk back towards the village, still carrying Elora. Most of the walk back held silence as Flame and Elora traded glances with each other every now and then. When they made it back into the village, they approached a female cheetah with yellow fur and nearly nonexistent black dots dressed in a robe tend to a small garden tucked to the side of a small hut. She stood up and lifted a small woven basket full of vegetables. She turned around and was shocked to see three figures approach her. Out of her surprise, she dropped the basket.

"Elora! What happened to you?" she exclaimed. Elora took a moment to look at Flame and thought.

"I… wanted to go to the canyon… and I… fell," Elora lied.

"How many times have you told you and Flame to not play by the canyon anymore?" she scolded.

"Sorry mom," Elora apologized.

"You're just lucky you were able to walk away," she told her.

"More or less," Hunter budded in, implying her wounds

"We should get her inside," her mother said, motioning them to follow her. They all took shelter inside the small hut and her mother scanned the area for a place to lay her down, until Hunter spotted one.

"How about here?" he asked, motioning towards a small hammock tucked in the corner of the main room.

"Yes, that'll work," she answered. Hunter gently leaned in and set Elora onto the hammock. Flame quickly ran to her side and placed his front paws on the edge of the woolen net. Her mother seemed to be in a trance to see her daughter in such a state, a combination of concern and puzzlement.

"Claire?" Hunter softly spoke, bringing her out of her state of mind, "We should go fetch the healer."

"You're right. You two will be fine on your own?" she asked, directing her attention to Flame and Elora.

"We'll be fine mom," Flame spoke.

"Alright, we'll be back," their mother replied. She waited for a few seconds before leaving the hut with Hunter. As they began their walk, she couldn't help but stare the ground beneath her feat.

"What's wrong Claire?" Hunter asked, "Elora has been through worse."

"I know, that's what worries me," she replied.

"What do you mean?" Hunter asked

"She's an accident waiting to happen," Claire explained.

"I don't mean to imply, but Elora's too graceful to simply fall into the canyon," Hunter commented.

"Yes, it's not just her. Maybe I haven't been as good a mother as I thought."

"That's not true," Hunter said while stopping in front of her, "In every accident, in every incident they've been in, they've managed to get through it because they look after and protect each other. They got that from you. You have been one of the best mothers I have ever seen." A few small scattered tears appeared around her eyes.

"Thanks Hunter," she told him before they continued their walk to the healer. Meanwhile, an empty silence filled the hut that Elora rested in, until Flame finally spoke what hid in the back of his mind.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked, not looking at him.

"Why did you lie?" he clarified.

"I don't know," she spoke, barely above a whisper, "I suppose I was scared."

"Of what?" Flame asked, afraid of knowing the answer.

"Of mom separating us," Elora said, struggling to keep her emotions under control.

"Then you're afraid of nothing," Flame told her while walking around the hammock to look her in the eye, "Mom would never do that."

"Well—" Elora started but cut herself off when she saw the curtain that led outside open. Three cheetahs walked into the hut, one was Hunter, the second was their mother Claire, and the third was the village healer Meadow. He had orange and white fur and was dressed in a green and brown robe. Over his shoulder, he carried a large satchel which was the source of clanking glass bottles. He walked over to the hammock that Elora rested in and examined her wounds. Hunter noticed how much space the five of them took up in the small hut. He gently tapped Flame's shoulder causing him to turn his head towards Hunter.

"How about we leave and give Meadow some room to work?" he asked.

"Okay," Flame replied. The two of them left the hut, with Hunter leading. As he pulled back the curtain, he saw the fallen basket of robes. He held the curtain open for Flame and then walked over to the basket. He picked it up and gestured Flame to follow him.

"Where are we going?" Flame asked as he approached his side.

"To the river," Hunter told him, while emphasizing the basket in his hands.

"Are we seriously washing clothes?" Flame moaned.

"Might as well make ourselves useful," Hunter added as they approached the gate to the village. A few minutes later, they arrived at the side of the river. Hunter put down the basket of robes and examined the water. It was slightly murky yet primarily blue. Hunter stared at the basket.

"This is going to take forever," Flame complained.

"No it won't Flame. Start getting the clothes wet and I'll go get some buttertails," Hunter suggested. As he wondered off to pick flowers, Flame used his paws to push the basket into the river. Water began flooding into the basket through the small openings created by the weaves. He then pressed down onto the clothing, making sure that each piece had been exposed to water. Seconds later, he saw Hunter walk towards him with a small group of flowers in his hand.

"Clothes are wet Hunter," Flame announced.

"Good, thank you Flame," Hunter told him. As he kneeled down next to the partially submerged basket. Hunter then looked at the flowers in his hand. They were bright-yellow and bell-shaped. He set down all but one of them and placed it into the water. He then squeezed the bell-shaped flower until the nectar slowly oozed out. He then threw the flower aside and grabbed another. He repeated the process until the nectar from five flowers was wading in the water. After that, Hunter used his paws to knead the pile of clothes, turning it over and over as a small foam developed from the nectar. Flame watched in silence as Hunter made sure that nectar reached every piece of clothing. Hunter picked up his gaze.

"I know what Elora said had happened today," Hunter said, still tending to the robes, "But I want to know what you say happened." Flame sighed, he knew that Hunter wasn't convinced about Elora's story.

"It was my fault," Flame said quietly.

"How so?" Hunter questioned.

"I… was trying to fly… again," Flame said hesitantly.

"I take it the keyword here is 'trying'?" Hunter confirmed. Flame nodded.

"I fell into the canyon and Elora… saved me," Flame continued.

"I figured as much," Hunter replied, "She's very protective of you."

"But she'll never admit that," Flame added. Hunter removed his hands from the soapy water and shook off the excess water.

"Maybe not directly, but every time she does something like that, you know why," he told him while standing up and lifting the basket of robes into the air. Water trickled down through the weaves and onto the ground as he began his walk back to the village with Flame following closely behind. After a few minutes of slow walking, they arrived at Claire's hut. Hunter set down the basket of robes in front of the garden just as Meadow and Claire walked outside. Hunter saw the look glued on Claire's face.

"Maybe you should head inside and keep Elora company. Flame nodded his head in agreement and headed inside. He walked slowly towards the injured faun in the hammock. When he got close enough, he noticed that she had tattered cloth wrapped around her swollen ankles. Just outside the hut, Meadow gave Hunter the news.

"What do you mean you can't heal her?" Hunter snapped.

"All I can do is ease her pain. Elora broke both of her ankles, and we don't have any of the supplies needed to heal her bones," Meadow explained. Hunter took a few seconds to absorb the information before coming up with an answer.

"Warfang! We need to head there anyways in a few days to gather supplies. We can leave a little early and take Elora to a healing room.

"How early were you thinking?" Meadow asked.

"A day early," Hunter answered.

"That's tomorrow," Meadow reminded him.

"I'm well aware of that Meadow," Hunter commented, "Tell the rest of the convoy to get ready for tomorrow."

"If you say so," Meadow said, walking away from the two of them.

"Thank you Hunter," Claire said to him, "I know Meadow could be stubborn at times."

"Prowlus is the obdurate one," Hunter teased.

"Don't let him catch you saying that," she said playfully.

"He knows very well what I think of him," Hunter told her.


End file.
